Deep Waters

abruptly, blinked, frowned, and focused. "Oh. Good morning."
    "Think the fog will burn off by noon?" he asked pleasantly.
    "Is that supposed to be funny?"
    "Just trying to make conversation. Figured the weather was a safe topic."
    She blushed furiously. He knew she was recalling her own comments on the weather during the walk along the bluff last night. Two could play the casual game, Elias thought.
    "What have you got in the sack?" she asked gruffly.
    "Dinner. Or at least the part of it that I didn't pick up in Seattle yesterday. By the way, thanks for getting Tybern off my back last night. Nice of you to leap to my defense. I was impressed."
    She scowled. "Hank had no business implying that you were somehow involved in the murders."
    "He just made a couple of professional observations. In his shoes, I'd have made the same ones."
    "He could have made similar observations about me, but he didn't."
    "You're not as new in town as I am. Besides, you don't look like a murderer."
    "Neither do you. Furthermore, you don't have a motive, either."
    "Thanks. Some people might not agree with you, though. Me being such an enigmatic, mysterious type and all. Who can say what dark motives I might have?"
    She gazed at him with wide, considering eyes for what seemed like forever. "I know you didn't kill Gwen Pitt because I was with you that night. And even though I wasn't with you every minute on the day Tybern thinks Swinton died, I know that you didn't kill him, either."
    He was warmed by the grave certainty in her voice. "You don't think I'm capable of murder?"
    "I didn't say that. I think you would be capable of killing under certain circumstances. But these aren't the circumstances. And if you did kill someone, I don't think you'd use a gun."
    "No?"
    "No." Her gaze did not waver. "For you, something so primitive and violent would be a very personal act. You'd use your bare hands."
    Elias stared at her. He could not think of anything to say for the space of several heartbeats. She was right, but it did not seem like the sort of observation a man should casually confirm while standing in the middle of a sidewalk.
    "Nice to know I have your unqualified support," he finally said.
    "Don't you dare get sarcastic. I am not in a great mood today."
    "Sorry." A door opened halfway down the block. Elias watched as Phyllis Dartmoor left her office, turned, and walked away in the opposite direction. "You know, speaking of motives, there goes someone who has a damned good one."
    Charity glanced down the block at the departing Phyllis. "She's worried that Tybern might think so, too. Fifteen minutes ago she called me into her office and asked if I intended to tell Hank about those dreadful photos."
    "And you said no, naturally."
    "Of course I said no. She very wisely burned the pictures, so the evidence is gone, anyway. But I seriously doubt that she killed him. And she certainly had no motive to murder Gwen Pitt."
    "No motive that we know of," Elias corrected absently. He glanced past Charity and saw Hank Tybern's car pull into a parking space in the middle of the block.
    "I refuse to believe that Phyllis Dartmoor is a murderer," Charity insisted. "She's just not the type."
    "How many murderers have you met?"
    "That is not a relevant question. You know, Phyllis said something that got me thinking. She said a couple of things, in fact."
    "What things?" Elias watched Hank climb out of the patrol car.
    Tybern had a grim expression on his broad face. When he reached the sidewalk he turned to the right and walked stolidly past Phyllis's office.
    "She said that Rick Swinton once told her that he always got even," Charity said. "That no one ever got away with screwing him over. We've got a lot of evidence that she's right. The vandalism of my kitchen and the two thugs he sent to beat you up, for example."
    "What about Arlene Fenton? She told him to get lost."
    "He was more angry at you for interrupting him the night he tried to force himself on her," Charity said. "In any event, he probably figured he'd already gotten even with Arlene because he and Gwen had stolen her money."
    "Good point." Elias thought about it. "And he was the one who left the blackmail pictures under your door hoping you'd use them against Phyllis."
    "Right. He definitely had a policy of getting even. The other thing Phyllis said that interested me was that Swinton took someone else besides her to the old Rossiter place."
    "The Rossiter place?" Elias watched as Hank stopped in